Blackmail
by Roadstergal
Summary: A short and disturbing gapfiller for Out Of Time. Not exactly slash. But that's as close as anything.


Rimmer hugged his knees, grimacing as Kryten's feet bumped his boots, despite his attempts to pull them back. He did not enjoy spending time with that smegging machine under the best of circumstances, and being pulled into a deep sleep stasis unit not a foot away from the bogbot was not the best of circumstances. He let out a breath as the sleep unit slid shut, relieved that the three days he would be trapped with the mechanoid would appear to pass in an instant.

As the unit slid into its cryogenic housing, a thud of energy made the ship shake. In the very dim glow of Rimmer's own projection, he could see that the mechanoid had frozen in place as soon as the reality bubble hit. "Kryten," Rimmer said through his teeth, "activate the stasis seal."

Kryten did not move. "We have hit a reality bubble, Mister Rimmer. If I activate the stasis seal now, our own altered states will not revert back to standard reality once the ship passes through the bubble. We may remain in our altered states forever. I am going to wait until we pass out of the reality bubble."

Rimmer sighed and looked up at the very low ceiling. Every minute spent in such close quarters with the mechanoid was one minute too long. "I feel fine, Kryten. The reality bubble might not have affected _us_, this time around."

Kryten paused to ponder this. "Yes, you have a point, darling."

Rimmer hiccupped. "_Darling_?"

Kryten moved from the seated position to his hands and knees, and started to crawl towards Rimmer. Rimmer tried to pull back; he did not understand Kryten's behavior, but understood that he should be very worried about it. Given the size of the sleep chamber, however, he had very little room to retreat; he found himself pushed back against the wall with Kryten between his legs, his syntho-skin-covered hands resting on Rimmer's knees. "Yes. Well," Kryten licked his lips, "we should wait out the bubble anyway. And," his nonexistent eyebrows danced in a grotesque parody of coquettishness, "maybe we can make the time pass a little faster." He leaned forwards and pressed his jelly-rubber lips to Rimmer's.

Rimmer slid downwards, pushing at Kryten. "What the smeg are you doing?" he asked, the words muffled by Kryten's mouth. His hard-light drive was stronger than a human body, but Kryten was a robot, after all, and Rimmer's pushing was doing nothing to move the mechanoid off of him.

Kryten pushed Rimmer's knees apart and continued to kiss him. "Don't worry, dear; the others will not be out of stasis for three days."

"I will not be out of shock for three months!" This reality bubble was definitely the worst of the bunch, Rimmer thought desperately, as Kryten opened his legs and pushed Rimmer's knees down, straddling the hologram as he pushed his mouth open with a jelly-rubber tongue. Kryten kissed him deeply, licking the inside of Rimmer's mouth while he pressed his lips to Rimmer's, so hard that every movement produced an almost painful friction. The squared-off, too-cool, and frighteningly resilient lips and tongue were so terribly obviously not human that Rimmer swore he could feel his penis retracting into his body. He wiggled one leg free and kneed Kryten in the groin. His knee hit Kryten's trademark with a painful, dull clang, and he yelped.

"Tease," giggled Kryten as he pulled back. He pushed in again with renewed intensity, tonguing Rimmer's mouth open wider with a frighteningly strong syntho-tongue, and starting to rub his trademarked and genitalia-less groin against Rimmer's highly uninterested crotch. A mechanical whine started in Kryten's throat as he pushed his hands under Rimmer's shirt and started to rub the hologram's back. The whine increased in frequency, like the spool-up of a generator, as Kryten rubbed against Rimmer, the hologram's kicks and pushes having no effect on the mechanoid. The noise began to reach a fevered pitch, and Rimmer wondered what god he had angered who was now going to make him the cause of a service robot's genitalia-independent orgasm.

Kryten had Rimmer's shirt half-off and was rubbing against him hard enough to make his head bang against the wall of the deep-sleep cubicle when the whump of re-emergence shuddered through the ship. Kryten froze, abruptly, and then pulled back. Rimmer sat up, indignant, and started to pull his uniform back into place. "You perverted smegging pile of goddam obsolete vacuum-tubed smegging pile of smeg!" he yelled, pulling back against the wall.

"Yes, Mister Rimmer," Kryten said stiffly, reaching for the stasis activation switch.

"I am going to have you torn up for scrap when we get out of this!" Rimmer shouted. If ever a robot deserved to be retired, Kryten just had. What the smegging hell had he been _doing_?

"Yes, Mister Rimmer," Kryten repeated. "Shall I replay this scene for Mister Lister on my chest monitor, or just provide him with a detailed oral report?"

Rimmer stopped trying to put his uniform back in order and stared at the mechanoid, agape. Kryten could not be serious. "Are you blackmailing me?"

"Yes, Mister Rimmer," Kryten repeated for the second time. A ghost of a smile was playing across his features.

"You are a weasely, self-serving, back-stabbing rat, Kryten," Rimmer said, tightlipped.

"I must have learned something from you after all," Kryten said. He was definitely smirking, now.

Rimmer crossed his arms and glared. "You're not going to get away with this."

"Whatever you say, Mister Rimmer," Kryten said, blandly, as he activated the stasis field.

Rimmer's glare stayed frozen on his face for the three days it took them to reach the center of the minefield.


End file.
